


Student Debt

by Heliocat



Series: Ash Lynx: The Pre-Eiji Years [5]
Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Ash Lynx Needs A Hug, Canonical Child Abuse, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Forced Prostitution, Other, Payment, Prostitution, Tutoring, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:33:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29334588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heliocat/pseuds/Heliocat
Summary: Sequel to 'A Chosen Boy'.Ash's etiquette tutor is the first to notice he's smarter than most kids. He informs Dino, who gets Ash tested and hastens to find him only the best teachers to enhance his potential. Ash is grateful for the chance of receiving a decent education. However, there is always a price to pay.PLEASE NOTE: No hardcore here. It is just a short story of Ash's life in Dino's mansion when he was a child. It focuses more on the psychological and tragic aspects.
Relationships: Dino Golzine/Ash Lynx (Unrequited), Original Character/Ash Lynx (unrequited)
Series: Ash Lynx: The Pre-Eiji Years [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043208
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Student Debt

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to 'A Chosen Boy', this details Ash's experiences during his first few months of living with Dino Golzine prior to Blanca coming into his life. He is aged eleven in this fic, and has recently been pulled out of the club. Most of my information for this was gathered from 'Private Opinion', which mentions that not just one, but several of his tutors abused him sexually. 
> 
> Really makes you want to cry.
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: There is nothing overly hardcore in here - I physically and morally cannot bring myself to write that in good conscience, plus there are laws in my country I do not wish to break - but it's still tagged as underage due to the age of Ash at the time and the implication that things have been and will be done to him.
> 
> As always, British English has been used for spelling and grammar.
> 
> Many thanks to Akimi Yoshida for creating Banana Fish - this is a work of fanfiction, so I own none of the intellectual property.

He’d been here for six weeks. Since leaving the club, it had become easier to keep track of days. There had been some positives to the move. For one, he was provided a variety of new clothes, all designer labels, and he could pick and choose what he wanted to wear unless specifically told otherwise by Papa Dino. He had to wear tailored suits for certain dinners he was expected to attend, for instance, and Dino had made him get his hair cut into a neater style, requesting he wore it pushed back away from his face rather than floppy into his eyes like he’d always had it before. Dino liked to be able to see his eyes, would often comment on them favourably, remarking on their intensity and rarity, like they were precious gems to be coveted rather than an organ that allowed him to see. Another positive, as promised, he had full access to the entire mansion and grounds, with the exception of Dino’s office and board rooms unless he was called for. He had his own room, although he suspected he wouldn’t be spending as much time alone in his own bed as he would like, and the servants would cater to his every need within reason. He was given three meals a day, always really fancy things that he’d never even seen, never mind eaten before, but his calorie intake was strictly monitored and he was told that, if when he was outside the mansion, he was found indulging in junk food, he would be punished. He’d never been a big fan of hamburgers and overly sweet things anyway, so that wasn’t too much of an issue… but he’d still sneak a hot dog or a slice of pizza if given a chance.

Speaking of freedom, it was still limited, but at least now he was allowed out from time to time instead of having to sneak around. As long as he returned to the mansion by nightfall, he was allowed to head into the city at the weekends and during the week if he had spare time after his lessons. He’d sometimes seek out Alex and the others to hang out at the pool hall or arcade. If he couldn’t find them, or wasn’t feeling especially social, then he'd go and spend a few hours in the library or one of New York's museums. Dino would give him a small allowance every week for transport and pocket money. If he didn’t return, Dino had said that he would send people out to find him and bring him back, and he had eyes everywhere, which Ash felt on him wherever he went. The library was actually one of relatively few places in the city where the feeling of being watched vanished; he figured nobody suspected a little bratty kid would want to hide out in a house of learning.

One of the people given the task of retrieving him should he run was Marvin, and he had been given free rein to do as he wished as punishment. That threat alone meant that he made sure to return well before curfew. He had been close once; he’d gotten engrossed in a book at the library and lost track of the time, then the subway had some serious delays from a fatality. He had abandoned the train halfway back and ran all the way from Manhattan to New Jersey, keeping an eye on the sun as he raced over George Washington bridge, despairing as it seemed to fall behind the horizon faster than he could run, sprinting through the gate and collapsing on the lawn, clutching a stitch in his side and struggling to breathe while Dino’s gatekeeper laughed at him.

“Cutting it fine there, kid,” he’d guffawed meanly. “Monsieur isn’t going to be happy with you for being late!”

“I… still made it… back though…” he’d gasped.

“Yeah, well, you better go and make yourself presentable before Monsieur catches sight of you. You’re not a lawn ornament, so unless you want me to shove a rod up your ass and stick you in the flowerbed like a plastic flamingo, I suggest you get your sweaty little fag butt inside.”

He didn’t need telling twice.

His nightlife had not improved. At the end of the day, he was still nothing more than some paedophile’s plaything. Spending time with Dino Golzine was different to his usual clients, but no less hellish. Normally, seeing as they were paying by the hour, Johns would keep foreplay and actively pleasuring him to a minimum. They didn’t have the time nor money to afford to waste precious minutes on him; they were there for themselves and their own sick little pleasures. You’d have them tease you a little to get you squirming if they were into that sort of thing, feeling you up inappropriately just enough to force a favourable response from you, but then it would be straight down to business. Pushed hastily onto your knees, cock thrust into your mouth while you tried not to choke, or else forced into a compromising position before they fucked you. He’d learned early on that it was easiest to let them do what they liked with you rather than fight it. Then they’d clean themselves up and return to their happy little lives, with barely a thought for you until the next time they wanted a quick lay. Most of them didn’t care for your wellbeing either, so if you got chance, he found it was best to prepare yourself beforehand with your fingers to minimise the pain and likelihood of tearing; you’d get called out for being a slut if you weren’t still virgin-tight, but it was better than the alternative. He’d had so many fissures down there he’d lost count; they were always awful, taking a while to heal and making basic human functions like using the toilet near unbearable, leaving him with lingering, burning pain that shot up his back and down his legs.

Dino, however, on his first time, instructed him not to touch himself beforehand, warning him that he would know if he had and would punish him for it. That instruction in itself make him nervous.

Turned out that owning the merchandise had its perks when you were a special kind of pervert. Not having to pay meant he could take his time and indulge fully in the bounty placed before him. He’d first asked him to strip for him slowly, instructing him exactly which items of clothing to remove and when. Once he was completely nude, he’d meticulously examined every inch of him, seeking out the spots that made him shudder. He’d taken time to find every erogenous zone he had, inside and out, and then he toyed with them relentlessly. Dino got his rocks off on making him moan and writhe, enjoyed most of all the feeling of power he had over him, forcing him to submit and humiliating him by coaxing pleasure from him. In many ways, especially psychologically, it was worse than the quick and messy roughness he was used to, having his body betray him over and over again, his mind screaming no while his physical reactions begged for more. Worse still, if Dino hit just the right spots, even his mind would turn on him, blanking out in hedonistic ecstasy, only to return to the present moment with a deep self-loathing. Only once he’d been thoroughly pleasured and was dying of shame did Dino turn it up a notch and actually fuck him, and the way the fat pig acted it was like the whole affair was supposed to be a treat, something to look forward to. His eyes were just like the rest of them though; dark and cold, like staring into the abyss.

After he was done, Dino liked to cuddle. It wasn’t an affectionate embrace. It was possessional, Dino asserting dominance and ownership. Despite being mentally and physically spent after his first time, he got no sleep that night at all, uncomfortably wrapped up tight as he was in the sick pervert’s arms, Dino’s breath on his neck and his stench all over him, sticky between his thighs. He was naked and sweaty and way too hot with his back pressed up against Dino’s flabby gut, the adrenaline of panic pumping through his veins like fire. He’d just wanted to curl up somewhere alone so he could deal with his emotions, like he usually did once his ‘work’ was over for the night and the staff had left him, but he was denied even that. He had to make do with disassociating as best as he could, laying limp and spent in the bed like a ragdoll, trying to imagine himself somewhere pleasant, like… he was four again… and he’d crawled into his brother’s bed after a nightmare… and Griff was holding him… safe… and warm… and he wasn’t going to cry…

Morning couldn’t come soon enough.

Thankfully, Dino didn’t call him into his room every night. On average, Dino slept with him once every three days, and the rest of the time he was left alone. He had yet to be utilised as a bargaining chip, as Dino didn’t feel he was ‘up to high enough standard’ yet, and he must finish his etiquette training to an adequate level first before being paraded in front of dignitaries and business moguls as a bribe. As for the Club, his price had been hiked by a considerable amount and very few people were willing to pay that for a quick lay. No doubt some rich bastard would eventually. He had graduated from cheap whore to ‘high-class callboy’, but he was still a prostitute when all said and done.

Weekdays, he was expected to attend lessons on etiquette with his own personal tutor. His teacher was a thin, middle-aged gentleman named Clark Applebee, who never chastised him and was amazed at how fast he picked skills and information up. Within a couple of weeks, he had grasped most of the basics and could, when he applied himself, be more dignified than most highborn children of a similar age after living in luxury their whole lives. He only had to be told something once and he remembered it, and his dexterity was excellent so any practical skills he learnt quickly. Clark twigged very early on that this kid had an impressive head on his pretty little shoulders, and he didn’t hesitate to inform his boss of this information when Dino asked him how he was doing in his studies.

“I’ve never known a kid like it,” Clark had said honestly, after he’d been teaching him for a month. “He has an amazing memory, and he seems to soak up information like a sponge. Considering he hasn’t had an awful lot of schooling, he’s remarkably bright when he speaks, and curious about everything. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were dealing with some sort of child genius here.”

“A genius?” Dino sounded surprised at this, but also intrigued. Most of the boys he had taken into his care hadn’t been all that bright and it had taken them several months if not years to learn even basic etiquette. Clark had been in his staff for two decades now. He was one of the best in the State and had taught, or attempted to teach at least, all his prior charges. He had never spoken about any of them favourably. “If he’s smart enough, maybe I can utilise him for other things besides the usual looking pretty and providing a valuable service. Do you think he may benefit from further tuition?”

“Well, if he learns other subjects as fast as he learnt table manners and the rules of a tuxedo, then yes, he may benefit extremely well from it.”

“Seems I may have chosen a veritable pearl from amongst the swine,” Dino said, smiling and sounding pleased. “Continue your work with Ash. I will see to it that he receives a fitting education.”

“Of course, Papa.”

Dino had called in a professional psychologist to conduct an intelligence test the very next week. He’d been made to take a series of tests to measure his cognitive abilities and practical intelligence, filling out reams of paper with maths problems, logic puzzles and pattern sequences on them. They’d asked him to read out paragraphs of text with varying degrees of difficulty, and a psychiatric test had been given to see if he had any learning or mental disabilities, such as autism or dyslexia. What the psychologist discovered from the tests was astonishing.

“This kid has an IQ in excess of 180,” he had said, astounded. “Never mind a genius – he’s practically off the charts!”

“Hoh…?” Dino had perked up at hearing that.

“We even repeated the test in case it was a mistake, but he actually scored higher the second time around. To have a brain like that inside… well… he’s beautiful, but he’s not exactly the most eloquent of beings, is he.”

“You can forgive him a few common habits,” Dino said pensively. “He has spent considerable time on the streets and to my knowledge did not finish elementary school, but like a diamond in the rough he certainly has the potential to shine.”

Dino very quickly sent out invitations to universities and top experts offering them the chance to come and train a prodigy. Ash was called into his office after his IQ tests and told of the plans Dino had for him.

“You’ll receive the very best education,” he told him, forcing him to sit on his lap uncomfortably. “I expect you to be an obedient child and learn as much as you can from your teachers, Ash.”

“Y…yes Papa,” he’d whispered.

“You’re going to become very useful to me,” Dino continued, running one of his hands down his face in a gentle caress. Ash shuddered. “Beauty and brains together… magnificent.”

*

“So I hear Papa’s bringing in more tutors for you,” Clark said, sitting with Ash on a sofa in the drawing room of the mansion. He’d been quizzing him on how to introduce yourself to an adult and how to act in a social gathering like a party. He was due to attend his first soirée with Dino that weekend, so Clark was ensuring he would be the best he could be.

“Yes, Mr. Applebee, sir,” Ash had responded. “He said I was going to receive the best education money could buy.”

“That’s great news!”

“I look forward to learning more.”

“You’re turning into a proper little gentleman,” Clark told him, a smug smile on his otherwise bland face. “I’m so glad I put in that good word for you. You’ll make Papa proud for sure! Just keep up the studies and one day, maybe, he’ll reward you handsomely.”

 _‘I doubt it…’_ Ash thought. _‘What is it they say? Once you hit twenty nobody cares? He’s only interested because I scored so high on those weird logic tests. Once I become an adult, Dino’ll move onto his next project and I’ll be cast aside… Still, I’ve been dreaming of going back to school for years. Clark has at least given me an opportunity to learn… There’s only so much I can do by myself in the library...’_

“Thanks,” he muttered instead. “I appreciate it.”

“Oh, Ash – I don’t require your thanks,” Clark said. There was something in his tone of voice that Ash didn’t like. That horribly familiar dark edge to his words. Sure, he didn’t want verbal gratitude, but he still wanted something from him, that much was obvious. His tutor edged closer to him on the sofa. “I did help you out though,” he said, moving a hand onto his thigh. Ash inhaled sharply, feeling the fingers squeeze gently. “I feel you owe me for the opportunity you’re about to receive.”

Again. He never learnt – never trust an adult when they’re nice to you!

History just kept repeating itself.

“Stop it!” he hissed, trying to push Clark away from him. “Get off me!”

Clark grabbed his hand, stopping him from fighting. He twisted his wrist just slightly, causing Ash to gasp out in pain, a tiny cry of discomfort squeaking out from between his lips.

“I think you need to remember your place,” Clark growled. “You may act like royalty when the need arises, and you may be smarter than the average hustler, but you’ll always just be a common whore. Never forget that!”

A hand snaked up under his T-shirt, groping roughly at soft skin, and he flinched with a strangled moan at the contact. Lips smashed into his own, kissing him roughly. His mind whirled, panic mixed with self-hatred, until the more rational voice of self-preservation kicked in to override it.

 _‘Let him do what he wants,_ ’ it reminded him, _‘They’re all the same… every single one of them…’_

He let Clark do what he wanted without a fuss, paying him for his services the only way he could.

*

It was Dino who found him, exhausted on the couch with no pants on, numerous hickeys dotting his neck like some macabre necklace. The old don had marched over to him, hoisted him upright, and slapped him sharply.

“Such shameful behaviour!” he spat, furious. “Anyone would think you were just a common slut!”

Ash said nothing. It wasn’t like there was anything he could say in his defence; he w _as_ a common slut.

“Go clean yourself up! Disgraceful child…”

Clark never returned to the mansion. A week later, Ash was introduced to a new etiquette teacher, a middle-aged woman called Angela Bayleen. Over the coming months, he would be taught by several experts in their field in maths, science, politics and humanities, tutors coming and leaving, the one constant being that the same cycle would repeat over and over again.

Ash would always have to pay.


End file.
